


Snapshots

by hereforthephilindafics



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Amnesia, Angst with a Happy Ending, Car Accidents, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:07:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25793350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hereforthephilindafics/pseuds/hereforthephilindafics
Summary: He still worried. What if he would not be able to remember anything she told him about herself? Phil did not want to come across like an asshole. But what could he do? He couldn’t even watch a new movie anymore, barely able to remember the big details, let alone the small side-plots. He wondered if Melinda would find it creepy if he wrote down some of the things she told him?
Relationships: Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Comments: 16
Kudos: 41
Collections: AOS AU August 2020





	Snapshots

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a short piece as a Library AU prompt for my 30 Day Philinda Challenge. It fit both the Library AU and Amnesia AU so perfectly I decided to combine the prompts and extend the fic.
> 
> AUs are not my forte so I hope you like it ^_^

Melinda always came to the library at least an hour before opening. She deep cleaned the kids’ corner, although no amount of Lysol would make it safe for the tongues that liked to lick everything. The North Quincy branch was not as busy as the Quincy Center library and she liked it best. Melinda took a few moments to line up some books that had been moved from the monthly display. These month’s was “I don’t know the name but it has a red cover.”  
She smirked to herself as she secured some of the rolling carts with extra books and made sure to tuck away any cables that could become a tripping hazard. Melinda liked to sit at the desk and sip her green tea for a few minutes before throwing the doors open and welcoming the organized chaos into her life.

Thursdays were usually pretty quiet. She smiled at the parents who came in for story hour although Melinda had no intention of partaking this time either. She kept an eye out to make sure the teenagers were not hogging the available laptops for the internet; they had an hour limit for a reason. He caught her eye because he was grinning down at a Captain America comic book.

Melinda was used to seeing that reaction from the kids, especially when they got the newer editions, but seeing it on a grown man made her giggle. He was completely enamored with it, turning the comic in his hands, observing the back and front covers before going to one of the quitter corners and sinking into one of the bean chairs. When Melinda checked after an hour he was still there. She lost track of him after a commotion in the play area.

He came back every day for the rest of the week. Melinda watched him pick up a comic, sit in the same corner, and read it cover to cover. A few times he talked with some of the other kids, arguing that Captain America could kick Hulk’s ass. Melinda did not agree.

He didn’t show up on Monday and she tried not to be too disappointed, maybe he was on vacation, or new to the city and trying to familiarize himself.   
  


___

“Excuse me, Miss?”

Melinda turned around to face the counter and froze. There he was. His eyes were so blue it looked like he hid an ocean in his irises.

She cleared her throat. “How can I help?”

He looked down and tapped his finger on the counter. “I...umm...I guess I used to come here...”

Melinda frowned, tilting her head to the right.

He huffed, his shoulders sagging. “You probably think I’m being weird but...”

“Just tell me what you need.”

“I had a head injury a few months ago. My memory is not.... I remember big moments but not details. And I know I used to come here right before it happened. I just...”

Melinda smiled. “You don’t remember why?”

He nodded, blushing.

“Comics.”

“Pardon me?”

Melinda chuckled. “You used to pick up a comic, sit in the far corner of the reading area, and read for a few hours.”

“Ah yes! I do love Captain America comics. Plus, there was always someone at the counter with beautiful dark ha—

Melinda tried not to smirk. “I thought you didn’t remember details?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, which was also painted red now. “I guess it was an important one.”

“I’m Melinda,” she said, holding out her hand.

He shook it firmly. “Phil.”

“Well, Phil, what else do you like to read? Because I think you’ll run through my comics pretty soon.”

Phil smiled. “Historical fiction, crime novels, classics.”

“Oh, so you’re a nerd?”

He chuckled. “You are aware you’re a librarian, right?”

Melinda looked around. “What if I was just covering?” She giggled when she saw Phil’s confused face. “I’m kidding. Let me show you around.”

Phil looked down at his phone, frowning. “I actually have to go to therapy in half an hour. Maybe I could buy you some coffee later tonight?”

“People usually drink coffee in the morning, and I don’t actually drink coffee at all,” Melinda said.

He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck again. “Oh, yeah right.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.”

Melinda giggled. “I’m kidding Phil. Well, I really don’t drink coffee, but I am open for a drink or two.”

He grinned, pulling out his phone. “Would you mind if I wrote down your address so that I can pick you up? It’s a little hard to go off memory…

“Why don’t you meet me here at eight? That’s when I’m done cleaning and close up. Don’t bring your car, though. There’s no parking at the spot I’m thinking about.”

Phil grinned. He tapped at his phone for a few seconds and then looked up with a bigger grin. “See you then, Melinda.”

___

Phil took a deep breath as he looked in the bathroom mirror. He had barely been able to concentrate during his physical therapy session, and his therapist had noticed. At first, he had been ecstatic at the prospect of having a date, but the moment Phil stepped out of the library he began to worry. He triple-checked to make sure he had put the time to meet Melinda at the library in his calendar. He even set an alarm an hour prior so he could start getting ready, and a reminder that would pop up every time he looked at his phone.

He still worried. What if he would not be able to remember anything she told him about herself? Phil did not want to come across like an asshole. But what could he do? He couldn’t even watch a new movie anymore, barely able to remember the big details, let alone the small side-plots. He wondered if Melinda would find it creepy if he wrote down some of the things she told him? Melinda seemed like a nice person. He did not want to mess this up. He kept repeating her name in his head throughout their brief conversation in the library so it would stick.

Phil picked up his cologne from the tray on the bathroom counter. The first few months after the accident he had had to line up his toiletries in the order he was supposed to use them. He no longer needed to do that but having them all in a neat line did help him not become confused and overwhelmed. After getting dressed he sat by the chair next to the door, put on his shoes, and pulled out his phone to look at the list he had previously made for when he was ready to leave at seven-thirty. He checked off showering, shaving, getting dressed, putting on shoes. His wallet and keys were on the basket by the door as always. Sure he had remembered everything, Phil headed out of the door. It was less than a half hour walk to the library from his apartment.

Melinda was waiting outside already when he got there.

“I’m not late, am I?” Phil asked, pulling out his phone. What if she had said seven and he hadn’t remembered?

“Oh no, no. I was just done early, and it was nice out.”

Phil took a deep breath. “Oh okay, good. I’m glad.”

Melinda had started walking down the street with him, but she stopped suddenly, turning to him with a frown. “Phil, relax. You’re doing great. Plus, had you forgotten, I’m sure I would see you next time at the library for your comic fix.”

Phil looked down at his shoes, realizing he had forgotten to polish them because he had forgotten to put it down on the to-do list. “I’m sorry, you must think I’m so weird.”

He jumped when a warm hand cupped his cheek. Melinda was standing so close to him he could smell her jasmine perfume, or was that her own scent? Phil inhaled, closing his eyes.

“Phil, you are not weird. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to live with something like this. So, the least I can do is be patient. I wouldn’t have come out if I didn’t want to.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, looking up at her. “So where is this spot?”

The restaurant was off Hancock Street, tucked between two other buildings, small and intimate. The guy at the counter greeted Melinda energetically and the waitress hurried over right away with a warm smile.

“I guess you come here a lot?” Phil asked.

Melinda smirked. “I hate cooking.”

He grinned. “Hate it because you are not good at it, or because it’s tedious?”

“Both,” Melinda said, making a face. She bit her lower lip, looking at him. “You can write that down if you want? I’ve read a little bit about…your injury. Short term memory loss makes it hard to remember details or new information and usually writing things down helps the brain remember.”  
Phil smiled, hoping the menu he was holding up hid his blush. “I think I’m okay for now.”

They perused the menu in comfortable silence, but Phil let her order for both of them. Melinda grinned as she turned to the waitress, ordering the sample plate of dumplings and sushi, and bubble tea. When their food came, Phil snapped a photo and added ‘Melinda hates cooking’ in one of the corners.

“Can I see?” she asked, holding her hand out.

Phil handed over the phone, shivering when their fingers brushed for a moment.

“Impressive photography skills and font.”

He grinned. “I used to be a graphic designer.”

“Used to?” Melinda tilted her head to the right as she returned his phone.

“I quit after the car accident. Recovery took months and…”

“Phil, you don’t need to share anything more than you feel comfortable to.”

Melinda covered his hand with hers, squeezing it as she looked into his eyes and Phil took a deep breath. They talked as they ate, giggling at the way he held his chopsticks. They stayed until almost everyone else was gone.

“I have to admit, I do not want this night to end,” Phil said, looking down at his empty plate.

“It doesn’t have to. And I am off tomorrow,” Melinda said.

He looked up after taking a deep breath. “How about a glass of wine at my place?”

She smiled.

___

The walk to Phil’s apartment was short, the brisk evening air made Melinda shiver. She used it as an excuse to slip her left hand into his right arm and walk closer to him. She felt him stiffen for a moment and thought she overstepped but then he exhaled and looked down at her, smiling. He didn’t try to apologize for a mess they would both know had been there for days and Melinda smiled when she stepped into a tidy apartment. There was a scent of sandalwood and whiskey in the air.

“Red or white?” Phil asked.

“Red, please.” Melinda studied the wooden basket placed on top of a stool. A neon sign that read “Memory Box” hung on the wall above it. “What’s the memory box for?”

“Huh?” Phil looked up, his face twisting as he tried to get the cork out. “Oh. I place my wallet, phone, and keys in there. So the next time I am out of the door I don’t forget them.”

Melinda smiled. “Neat trick.”

She walked to the small kitchen. Phil’s wallet and keys were on the marble counter, but she could tell his phone was in his pocket. Melinda moved closer, her breast brushing his arm, causing Phil to look up. She grinned as she rested her fingers on his belt before sliding them into his pocket. She dug for his phone, biting her lip when the tips of her fingers brushed something hard for a moment. Phil cleared his throat.

“Your phone,” Melinda said, holding it up. “Don’t want to be the reason you forget your stuff tomorrow.”

She gathered the items and placed them in the box. Phil was waiting with her glass in the middle of his small living room, leaning against the white couch placed in front of the TV. Melinda looked around, noticing the sparce décor.

“No books?” she asked.

Phil took a sip of his wine. “I moved in right before the accident and…well I don’t really remember things I read anymore, so I didn’t see the point in unpacking.”

Melinda frowned. She took his hand, leaning him to the couch. “Phil, you should never get rid of books just because you think you didn’t read them properly.” She rolled her eyes. “People think that everyone reading a book needs to be able to remember every small detail. That doesn’t matter. What matters is how you feel the moment you read a passage. What a quote makes you realize. Only because you might not remember a character’ s name afterwards doesn’t mean you didn’t read the book and cried when that character cried.”

Phil was smiling at her.

Melinda blinked. “What?”

“I have never met someone so passionate.”

She snorted. “Well, I am a librarian.”

He shook his head. “No, I meant…. there are people who don’t have a passion, or even a hobby. They just float through life and… and I was starting to feel like that.”

“Phil…” Melinda put her glass down on the coffee table and cupped his face in her hands, moving closer. “You have gone through something traumatic. There is no way to go through something like that and not be changed. Only because your trauma isn’t visible doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

He looked at her, his blue eyes glassy. Melinda watched his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed.

“I do not want to ruin this, but I would really like to kiss you, Melinda.”

She grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Phil lunged forward, his hands wrapping around her waist. Melinda gasped as he pulled her closer, his lips warm and soft as they pressed on hers. She licked his lower lip and smiled when he let her in. He tasted of the jasmine tea they had at the café, and white wine and Melinda moaned as she sucked his tongue.

The bedroom was quiet. Melinda smiled remembering how their loud moans had mixed with the rustle of the sheets and the bed creaking. She snuggled closer to Phil who was snoring lightly next to her. The room smelled of sex and sweat and Melinda inhaled, grinning. It had been a long time since she had felt this content after being with someone. There was no impulse to run away from them as they slept. She could lie in this bed forever, sheets wrapped around their naked bodies and feet tangled. She turned on her left side and noticed the tattoo on his right ribs. Phil mumbled something as she traced the fine font. Melinda smiled when she read the words.

“Nice tattoo,” she said, biting his right pectoral.

Phil groaned. “I knew you’d like that.”

“One equal temper of heroic hearts/ Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will/ To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield,” Melinda recited without even looking at the tattoo.

“I got that a long time ago, but it seems even more fitting now.” Phil turned his head to the right, looking down at her. “Hi.”

Melinda smiled. “Hi.” She raised herself up on her left arm and kissed him. “Do you have the poem?”

“Should be somewhere in the boxes of books in storage.”

“Great! We can read it together when we unpack your books.”

Phil frowned. “You want to help?”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume—

“Mel, I’d love for you to help me unpack my books,” Phil said, shifting so he was sitting up next to her.

“What did you call me?”

“Mel. Don’t tell me no one has ever used that before?”

She shrugged. “Not really.” Melinda sat up. “But that means you now know a nickname you don’t have to remember because you came up with it.”

Phil grinned. She noticed how his eyes darted all over her breasts. She moaned when her nipples began to harden.

“Why don’t you take a picture, Phil? It lasts longer.” Melinda snorted at his shocked face.

“Sorry….uhhh…” He looked at her and laughed.

Melinda raised her eyebrow. “Tell you what. If I let you take a few…. stimulating pictures, you can use them as a reward every time you remember something.”

Phil’s eyes almost bugged out of his face. “Seriously?”

Melinda smirked. “I keep the pics, Phil.”

He almost jumped out of the bed. Melinda laughed as she watched him dig through one of his drawers. He turned around and showed her his polaroid. She rolled her eyes.

“Such a dork.”

Phil grinned. “Pick your poses, Mel.”

Melinda grinned and stayed where she was, sprawled on the bed, with her thighs wide open. He snapped the picture and waited for it to develop. She turned on her stomach, lifting her ass a little bit for the camera as she looked straight at it. Phil stared for a few seconds, only snapping the picture because Melinda cleared her throat. She giggled as she knelt on the bed, gripping her breasts for him. Phil’s dick was half-hard, jumping as he fiddled with the camera.

“I think those are enough for now,” Melinda said, snatching them away from him.

Phil pouted. “If you come over and I cook you dinner tomorrow, can I take some more?”

“And why would you cook me dinner, Phil?” Melinda asked, raising her right eyebrow at him.

“Because uhhh… you hate cooking.”

She grinned. “Good boy.” Melinda handed him one of the polaroids.

Phil looked at it in disbelief. “You really trust me?”

“Phil,” Melinda crawled on the mattress until she was on the edge and wrapped her arms around his neck. “If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have slept with you.”

He kissed her nose. “Thank you.”

“Now, come to bed. I’m hungry for something else.”


End file.
